


Trust

by AGirlNamedEd



Series: A Pair of Aces [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Other, Tumblr Prompt, forcing the world to accept my weird rarepair one fanfiction at a time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 01:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7338322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlNamedEd/pseuds/AGirlNamedEd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College is a time for learning, self-discovery, and having a good time.</p>
<p>Unless you're Tien, who's stuck doing stupid trust exercises with the rest of your floor. But hey, at least the Namekian he got paired with is alright for conversation. And he's good-looking. And alright maybe Tien's more than a little attracted to him.</p>
<p>Oops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trust

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt was "we’re both stuck at this awful hall meeting and are supposed to be revealing our feelings to each other" and I was feeling self-indulgent so I wrote this. And a second part. And I'm in the process of a third. Somebody stop me.
> 
> Just throwing a few things out there before we get started: I think of both of these losers as being both asexual and generally uninterested in sex. (I refer to the ship as "A Pair of Aces" for a reason lol.) But neither of those things means they _can't_ have sex, nor does it mean they _won't_. Also I think of Namekians as getting off from mouth stuff because that's where the reproductive stuff all happens. So that.
> 
> This is the most self-indulgent thing I have ever done and if everyone could maybe not judge me and my weird ship that would be cool
> 
> ALL chapters are NSFW.

Tien looked at the Namekian in front of him.

The Namekian looked back.

Tien cleared his throat.

The Namekian didn’t move.

“So,” Tien said, figuring an icebreaker was a good place to start, “you don’t want to be here either, huh?”

That got him a derisive snort, but nothing else.

Well, fuck it. Their unimaginative, boring RA had decided “trust exercises” were what everyone on their floor needed to be doing right now, and apparently that included “baring their deepest feelings to one another” or something. Fine. He wanted feelings?

Oh boy, did Tien have feelings.

“I could be in my room right now,” he announced. “I could be having a nap, or studying, or calling my little brother. I could be reading the new book I got from the library this morning. I could be practicing _katas_ in the common area.” To his surprise, the Namekian perked up when he mentioned martial arts. He filed that away for later. “But no, instead I’m here at this stupid meeting because _someone_ -–” He shot a very pointed glare at his roommate. Yamcha had his back to him, though, so he didn’t notice. “Decided I needed to ‘get out more’ and ‘be social.’”

The Namekian unfolded his arms and leaned on the table instead. “I came out to talk to Kevin about the ants in my unit and he wouldn’t talk to me unless I came to the meeting.” He glared at someone over Tien’s shoulder, and Tien didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that he was glaring at their RA. “It’s been over an hour and he _still_ won’t talk to me.”

Tien felt a grin spreading across his face. At least he’d found something they both had in common now. “I’m Tien.”

“Piccolo.” Piccolo raised a hand when Tien started to talk. “I know, not a common name for a Namekian, don’t ask, I’ve got brothers named Cymbal and Drum, my dad was insane.”

Tien noticed the use of the word “was” and didn’t comment. “My brother’s the only family I talk to anymore. His name is Chiaotzu and he’s eight.”

“The kid next door to me is usually the only person I can stand to be around for more than a few minutes. I babysit him sometimes. His mom hates me, though.” Piccolo looked proud of himself for reasons Tien couldn’t figure out for the life of him. Then he looked at Tien again. “You’re not bad, though. To talk to, I mean.”

For some reason, Tien felt heat prick his cheeks. “Uh. Thanks. You too.”

“Okay, everyone!” Kevin’s perky voice cut through the conversations. Piccolo winced and put his hands over his ears. Tien gave him a sympathetic look–Namekian ears were sensitive to loud noises. “We’re going to switch it up now! Find someone else to talk to!”

Piccolo scowled at Kevin, who ignored him and walked off towards a different group. “Fuck that,” he growled. “If he’s not going to talk to me about the ant problem, I’m leaving.” He started to stand and without thinking Tien snapped his hand out to grab Piccolo’s wrist.

They remained frozen like that for no more than a few seconds before Tien quickly retracted his hand. “Sorry,” he mumbled, folding his hands in his lap and keeping his eyes glued to them. “I was just thinking we could always just talk more instead. You’re the first person tonight I’ve been able to actually hold a conversation with.” At Piccolo’s silence, he glanced up to see Piccolo looking at him thoughtfully.

Kevin chose that moment to pop over to their table. “Heeeyyyy, Tien, Piccolo, we’re switching partners now, so–-”

“Either talk to me about ants or fuck off, Kevin.” Piccolo turned his back to their RA and focused on Tien again. “Want to go to my room? I was just going to go check the ant traps again, but–-”

Tien stood as well. “Absolutely. Anywhere but here would be _fantastic_.”

Piccolo nodded once, sharply, decisively, flipped Kevin off, and headed for the door. Tien hurried over to Yamcha and told him he was leaving. His roommate winked at him.

“Good for you,” he said. “Go get some.”

He and Piccolo were halfway down the hall before Tien figured out what Yamcha thought was going on. He almost laughed, but panic set in first. Oh no. What if Piccolo _was_ thinking of that? Had they been flirting just now? It hadn’t seemed like it to Tien, but he’d had several people have to flat-out tell him they were flirting with him before he noticed. He glanced at Piccolo, the silence between them suddenly awkward on his side. Really, he could do worse than Piccolo. The Namekian was downright handsome, with a strong jaw and a sliver of toned chest peeking through the top of his baggy shirt. And he seemed like a decent guy.

The problem, for Tien, was that nine times out of ten he just wasn’t interested in sex of any kind. What would he do if it turned out Piccolo was?

He bumped into something, snapping out of his thoughts to realize that “something” was Piccolo’s back. Tien hurriedly backed up a few steps, face on fire. Piccolo glanced over his shoulder at him. “You alright?” he asked.

“Fine.” His voice squeaked and he cleared his throat. “Fine,” he said again. “Just…just fine.”

Piccolo was looking at him like he’d just sprouted a third eye in the middle of his forehead, but he shrugged and opened the door he’d stopped in front of. “Nail, I’m back,” he said loudly, walking right in. “Shoes go over there,” he told Tien, toeing his own shoes off and kicking them into the corner by the door. Tien took his shoes off a little more gently while Piccolo knocked on the door leading to one of the bedrooms. “Kevin’s an asshole,” he said through the door. “Wouldn’t talk to me about the ants. Nail?” There was no response from his roommate.

“Maybe he’s asleep,” Tien offered. He was still standing in the entryway, such as it was–-the units in this building were tiny, with one room making up a tiny kitchen and living space, two bedrooms that barely fit the standard furniture they all came with, and a bathroom that you could only just turn around in. From the looks of things, neither Piccolo nor his roommate (Nail?) had brought in much in the way of furniture, and the kitchen didn’t seem well-used. A typical college dorm room if ever there was one.

“It’s only 9:30,” Piccolo said before pounding the door with his fist. “Hey, Nail, stop ignoring me.” He opened the door before Tien could say or do anything else.

The bedroom was empty. Piccolo scowled. “Well where the fuck did he go? Nail goes out even less than I do.”

Tien shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.” He peeked into the kitchen. “Looks like he left you a note or something, though.” When Piccolo looked around, he pointed at a scrap of paper on top of the microwave.

Piccolo grabbed it and scanned what was written on it. “Gone to a friend’s to study,” he said with a snort. “Code for “getting laid” if ever I saw it.” He tossed the note on the counter and looked back at Tien. “I guess we have the place to ourselves.”

Tien’s mouth was dry. He took a breath that was shakier than it should’ve been. “I guess so.”

“Want anything to drink?” Piccolo opened a cupboard and pulled out a couple of glasses. “We have water and, uh,” he checked the fridge, “water.”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Tien shifted his weight and gathered his courage before moving into the kitchen. Piccolo was being so casual, maybe he wasn’t thinking about sex at all. Which was kind of a pity because the more he looked at him, the more he realized how attractive he was. He leaned his hip against the counter as Piccolo filled and drained a glass of water, trying to gauge how much personal space to give. If he stood too close, he might freak Piccolo out, but if he was too far away he might not appear interested.

Oh no. He _was_ interested in sex with Piccolo. Oh that wasn’t good.

“So,” Piccolo said, leaving his glass next to the sink and turning back to Tien. That was all he said, forgoing words in favour of folding his arms and mimicking Tien’s lean against the counter, just an arm’s length away. There was a silence that grew more and more awkward as it lengthened. “You want to go sit down?” Piccolo asked.

“Yes,” Tien said immediately, because he’d been standing there panicking for the entire duration of the awkward silence and he probably would’ve agreed to anything Piccolo said at that point just to end it.

The old itch had come on very quickly, much quicker than usual–generally it built up over a few days until he couldn’t ignore it anymore. And he’d never had anyone help him out with it before. Or even asked anyone to help him with it. So he had no idea what to do except follow Piccolo when he led him into the other bedroom.

He tried to take in the decor–-a few photos on the desk, one of a young boy with black hair, a poster of Bruce Lee on one wall, white and purple clothes scattered around the floor-–but then Piccolo closed the door behind them and he lost focus. Piccolo leaned against the wall and indicated that Tien could take the desk chair.

In a display of forwardness that surprised even himself, Tien instead leaned on the wall next to Piccolo so that they were pressed right together.

Namekians blushed purple, apparently, because Piccolo’s green face was suddenly dusted with dark purple blotches. “Uh,” he said, turning slightly towards Tien. Tien leaned in so they were inches apart. “You–-that is–-you’re-–I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Please,” Tien murmured, and then Piccolo’s lips were on his, soft, gentle, exploratory, turning harder and more forceful as it went on, and suddenly Tien was pinned between Piccolo and the wall and struggling to keep up. He ran his hands up Piccolo’s arms, his stomach fluttering at the shudder it sent through Piccolo, then up over his shoulders to rest on either side of his face. A knee worked its way between Tien’s legs and Tien had to pull his mouth away to gasp for air for a moment.

Piccolo leaned down and growled in his ear. “So you were interested.” His hands ran up and down Tien’s sides and he shivered. “I wasn’t sure.”

“Neither was I,” Tien admitted, stroking Piccolo’s face with a thumb, “until just now.”

Piccolo pulled back, concern written all over his face. “Too fast? We can stop. I hadn’t originally invited you back to get laid, so it’s fine if you just want to-–”

Tien pulled his face forward and pressed their lips together again, just for a moment, just long enough to make Piccolo stop talking. “I’m down for it if you are,” he said. “But I’ll be honest, I don’t know how Namekians get off, so–-”

Piccolo waved vaguely. “Don’t worry about that. Trust me, it’s not hard.” He shifted the leg that was between Tien’s and grinned when Tien’s breath hitched. “Speaking of hard, you seem like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Tien responded by burying his face where Piccolo’s shoulder met his neck and sucking. He was expecting some kind of reaction, but not Piccolo to gasp and go nearly boneless against him. A light bite had Piccolo clutching him around the shoulders, cheek pressed to the top of Tien’s head, gasping and panting. “That’s…yeah, right there, oh… _Tien_ …”

And that was where it really hit Tien what they were doing, when Piccolo moaned his name in the lowest, filthiest way he’d ever heard it said. They were about to have sex. Tien was about to have sex with a man (an alien) he’d known for less than half an hour. Even more shocking was the realization that he was totally okay with it and that if he _didn’t_ have sex with Piccolo tonight then he’d be more upset than if he _did_.

“You stopped.” Piccolo pushed him out from his neck and back against the wall. “Second thoughts? It’s the alien thing, isn’t it?”

“No,” Tien said, quickly trying to reassure him. “I just…it just suddenly hit me, you know? I don’t do this very often and-–we barely know each other and–-”

“Please, like that ever stops anyone.” Piccolo snorted, but kissed Tien’s forehead, and the gesture was so gentle, so caring, that Tien almost wondered if this really was their first time meeting because Piccolo was so–-he was–-

There weren’t words, really.

“Listen,” Piccolo said, voice and mannerisms totally changing from the gentleness from before to something not quite sexy but trying really hard to be, “that’s a great outfit, but I think it’d look better on my floor.”

Tien tried to bite back a laugh, but was only partially successful. “Where’d you get that, the internet?”

“No,” Piccolo said harshly, but he slid his hands up under Tien’s shirt to run them across his chest. Then words were abandoned again as Tien slid out of his clothes with Piccolo’s help, stopping in the middle of losing a piece of clothing every so often to press together again anywhere they could. Lips, hands, teeth, all pressing and sliding and touching and Tien’s brain was a mess of hormones and then they were both naked and Piccolo’s mouth was on his again, but there was tongue for the first time and _oh_ that was _marvelous_. Tien’s hands were all over Piccolo, on his chest, back, arms, grabbing at his thighs and ass (very nicely toned thighs and ass), and Piccolo’s were returning the favour.

Then suddenly Piccolo moaned into Tien’s mouth and he broke away. Before Tien could process anything, he’d grabbed one of Tien’s hands and was sucking a finger. It was the most weirdly erotic thing Tien had ever seen (not that he had much experience) and he whimpered and ground against Piccolo’s hips. Piccolo squeezed Tien’s thigh and sucked a second finger into his mouth. Tien ground against Piccolo again, and the hand on his thigh slowly dragged itself over and–-

_Contact_. Oh god Tien was going to die. Piccolo’s touch was strong but gentle and Tien leaned forward to rest his forehead on Piccolo’s shoulder as he stroked him and sucked his fingers. He was so hot-–too hot–-there was a hand on him that _wasn’t his_ , Piccolo was making obscene sucking noises in his ear. Tension coiled low in his belly, he was dizzy with lust. He was going to explode.

Abruptly, Piccolo pulled off of his fingers with a slick pop, releasing Tien below as well. “What-–” Tien started, but he cut himself off when Piccolo knelt in front of him. “Oh. Okay.”

Piccolo chuckled, low and rich. “Didn’t think you’d object. I mean, if I get off from this-–” He sucked one of his own fingers into his mouth and ran it over his tongue. Tien swallowed. “And you get off from this–-” He ran the same finger up the underside of Tien’s shaft, and Tien’s hips jerked forward to follow the movement. “I figured why not combine them?”

And with that he had Tien in his mouth, and it was hot and wet and Tien had to lean forward and brace his hands on Piccolo’s shoulders or his knees would buckle, and Piccolo’s hands were on his hips, keeping them pinned back against the wall and he’d been wrong before, _now_ he was going to die.

Piccolo made a sudden noise that sounded a lot like a muffled shout and suddenly it was a lot _more_ wet and Tien shuddered and couldn’t hold back anymore, his mind going blissfully blank for a moment as he came. Piccolo pulled off and swallowed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Fuck,” he muttered, panting and looking up at Tien, “it’s definitely better than just my fingers.”

Despite the fact that Piccolo had literally just had Tien’s dick in his mouth, Tien chose this to blush over. “Y-you…do that often?”

“Nah.” Piccolo stood and stretched. Tien took the opportunity to admire him fully naked–-he hadn’t gotten much of an opportunity to before. “Not much point, unless I’m trying to have kids, and that shit’s not happening ever.”

“Me neither,” Tien admitted. “But that–-what you–-so much better,” he blurted. Why did he have to be so bad with words sometimes?

They stood in silence for a moment, Tien still against the wall despite Piccolo giving him plenty of space to move. “Did you,” Piccolo licked his lips and started over, “did you want to spend the night?”

Tien blinked. “Would you be okay with that? I mean my room’s just down the hall, but I don’t have any early classes tomorrow so I wouldn’t wake you, I just–-if you’re okay with-–”

Piccolo cut him off by moving into his personal space and giving him a closed-mouth kiss. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t,” he said gruffly.

Tien’s smile was weak, but genuine. “I suppose not,” he said as Piccolo pulled him towards the bed by his wrist.

“Besides-–” Piccolo gave a hard tug and the next thing Tien knew he was on his back in the middle of the bed, Piccolo on all fours above him–- “I never said we were done.”

~~~

The door into the apartment creaked no matter what Nail did, and he winced as he slipped into the kitchen. It was 7 in the morning, “too early for this shit” as Piccolo would no doubt say when he came out of his room to gripe at Nail for waking him. But whatever, he’d had a good night, done a lot, and although he was sore and tired it had definitely been worth it.

Although Piccolo was being awfully quiet.

Nail gently opened the door to Piccolo’s room and nearly fell on his ass at the sight before him. Piccolo was fast asleep, buck-ass naked, and curled around another man who was just as naked but not quite as asleep. He made eye contact with Nail and his eyes went wide, a flush starting to form on his face.

Nail just winked at him, gave him a thumb’s up, and closed the door again.


	2. Solo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tien isn't still thinking about Piccolo.
> 
> Nope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *buries face in hands* LET ME LIVE
> 
> This one is sadly lacking in Piccolo but the third one is not. Also a fun fact: I was going to end it before the laundry room scene but I decided I loved myself too much and needed to give closure for myself at least so. That.
> 
> !!!NSFW!!!

Tien managed to get all the way down the hallway to his room without running into anyone. Unfortunately, his luck ran out when he walked into his apartment to find his roommate sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal. Yamcha turned to him and grinned wickedly, and Tien froze, caught, still half in the hall, trying to decide whether or not he should bolt.

But he needed to get changed and grab his books for class and his wallet for lunch, so he resigned himself to his fate and walked the rest of the way into the room.

“Sooooooo,” Yamcha said, drawing the word out, “how was _your_ night?”

“No comment,” Tien said, hurrying into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him, hoping that would deter Yamcha from asking too many more prying questions.

His hopes were in vain apparently, because Yamcha instead took it as a sign to shout at him through the door. “Oh, come on, Tien, you never go out and then when you _do_ you’re not home until ten the next morning! I didn’t even get a look at the girl you left with last night; at least tell me what she looked like!”

Tien opened the door, wearing a fresh pair of sweatpants and a white tank top. “Well, uh.” He swallowed and grabbed his books from the desk next to the door. “He wasn’t exactly a _girl_.”

Yamcha’s smile faded slightly as he processed this, then turned conspiratorial. “So you went home with a _man_ then. Nice! Didn’t know you were into guys.”

“He wasn’t...” Tien tried to find the right words as he stuffed his wallet in his pocket. “He wasn’t exactly a man either.”

Yamcha frowned, not angrily, just confused. “So...what, they were agender? Nonbinary? I just want to know what they looked like, Tien, why are you being so difficult?”

“His name was Piccolo,” Tien blurted, pushing past Yamcha and heading for the door. “He’s a Namekian.” And then he was out the door and booking it out of the building and off to class. He’d probably just signed his own death warrant for telling Yamcha he’d had sex with a Namekian and then leaving before Yamcha could pry further, but fuck him, it wasn’t his business anyway. Tien was going to be distracted enough today as it was trying to not think about Piccolo.

~~~

As it turned out, he’d been distracted right from the get-go, grabbing the notebook for the wrong class and almost walking into a parked car on the way there. He struggled to pay attention for the lecture and had to go back to get napkins from the cafeteria three times.

His friend Launch eyed him warily from across the cafeteria table. “Are you alright?” she asked. “You seem...off.”

Tien waved her off. “I’m fine. Just distracted, that’s all.”

She leaned across the table to feel his forehead. “Are you sure? You’re never this forgetful. And you _do_ feel kind of warm.”

He shook her off. “No, really, I’m fine.”

“Is something bothering you?” She sat back down, eyebrows drawn together worriedly. “Do you need to talk about it?”

“ _No_. Launch, I’m fine, really, I promise.” He tried to punctuate the sentence with a sip of water, but apparently he couldn’t even _drink_ right today and he sat there coughing for five minutes while Launch rubbed his back soothingly.

“Fine,” he said when he could breathe again. “I went home with someone last night and I’ve been thinking about him all day. Happy?”

She absolutely glittered at him. “Oooooh, you’re in _love_ , are you?”

“N-no!” he stammered. “We hardly know each other! I only just met him last night!”

“What’s his name?” Launch asked, propping her chin in her hand and pushing her lunch out of the way. Evidently, Tien’s love life was much more interesting than salad. (Well, in Tien’s opinion, _everything_ was more interesting than salad.)

“Piccolo.”

She blinked. “That’s an...interesting name.”

“He’s Namekian.”

Launch frowned in confusion, then realization dawned on her features. “Oh. Oh! Is that what Yamcha texted me about?”

Tien groaned and buried his face in his arms. “What did he say now?”

“He said you got to join the “Alien Boyfriend Club” with him and Chi-Chi.”

“We met! Last night! And talked! For half an hour! We aren’t boyfriends yet!”

“Yet,” Launch reiterated.

“I hate you. Both of you.”

“No you don’t. So when are you seeing him again?”

Tien refused to lift his head and instead spoke into his arms. “We’re not. Not like that. It was a one-time thing.” After Piccolo’s roommate walking in on them that morning, Tien and Piccolo had had a chat over half-stale toast. (”Namekians don’t need to eat,” Piccolo explained, “but Nail still does sometimes.”) Neither of them regretted what happened the night before (or at least Tien didnt--Piccolo said he didn’t, but Tien always was a little paranoid), but they came to the decision that they enjoyed each other’s company and wanted to spend more time together. To that end, they’d exchanged phone numbers and agreed to meet up again later. Tien had gone back to his room and that was that.

“What? But you really like this guy, right?”

He raised his head just enough to look at her. “Well, _yeah_ , but I’m not--I don’t--we barely know each other!”

Launch shrugged and returned to her seat. “So talk to him. Get to know him better before the next time.” She dug into her salad again. “You’ve obviously got it bad for him--so don’t fight it, just go with it. And when you’re ready to have another go at him, let him know.” She winked at him and he shoved his face back into his arms.

~~~

The nice thing about having brought the wrong notebook to class was the fact that he got to copy all his notes into the right notebook, taking his time to make sure they were neat and getting a chance to reabsorb the information. A lot of the lecture had gone in one ear and out the other, but thankfully his body had acted on autopilot and copied down as much as it could. He’d probably have to check the class chatroom later to see if he’d missed anything important, though.

It was so unlike him, though, to be so distracted. Launch hadn’t been lying when she said he was never so forgetful as to forget napkins three times in a row. He just had Piccolo on the brain and if he was honest it was kind of scaring him a little.

Only once ever had he been so infatuated with anyone, and even then he’d never been sexually attracted to Launch. It wasn’t what ended their relationship by any means--they just weren’t good for each other, encouraging each other’s more dangerous behaviours, and eventually decided they were better off as friends. He’d always waited for his “sexual energy” to be directed at a particular person like he was always told it would be in sex ed, but it didn’t happen. Hell, he hadn’t even had any crushes while he was going through puberty, and now here he was, twenty years old and head over heels for a Namekian he hardly knew anything about.

The memory of Piccolo’s hands on his thighs made its way to the front of his mind and he accidentally dragged his pencil halfway across the page without writing anything. He quickly pushed the thought away and tried to focus on his notes. But massage therapy notes weren’t nearly as interesting as picturing Piccolo’s mouth on him from last night and it took him a good couple of minutes to realize he was rubbing himself through his sweatpants while he wrote.

Tien quickly moved his hand away because _goddamnit_ that was _not appropriate_. He was more annoyed with himself than anything--it had been less than 24 hours, usually he only got in the mood around once a month or so. And yet apparently he was already raring to go again.

Well. It wasn’t like there was anything _wrong_ with a little self indulgence. And Yamcha was still in class and wouldn’t be back for at least another hour. He had the place to himself without worrying about anyone walking in on him. And he was half-hard already--he couldn’t concentrate on his homework like this.

It was disgustingly easy to convince himself to slip his hand under the waistband of his sweats. He was glad no one was around to hear the noise he made when he wrapped a hand around himself, a low, quiet sigh, like he’d been waiting for this release for so long. It was embarrassing, really.

Tien let his mind drift while he stroked himself, head falling back and eyes sliding shut, his other hand gripping the seat of his desk chair. He spread his legs a little and moved a little faster, ignoring the slight chafing that came with going dry like this. (He didn’t own any lubricant, and although he unfortunately knew Yamcha did, he wasn’t about to go look for it, not now.) Usually when he did this he didn’t think of much, just let his mind go blank, but today...

He was not thinking about Piccolo, he was _not_ thinking about Piccolo, _he was not thinking about Piccolo_

He wondered if he could get Piccolo to come just from kissing.

A shuddering, gasping inhale was his reward for that thought, and his hips jerked up into his hold. Oh god he wanted to hold Piccolo again, have him pin him to the wall, the floor, the bed, anywhere, and do whatever he wanted with him. He wanted to kiss Piccolo hard and rough and soft and sweet and in every way it was possible to kiss someone. He wanted to taste him when he came, to know that _he_ was the reason for his dazed expression, to open every part of himself to Piccolo and have Piccolo do the same for him.

It didn’t take long before Tien was panting and gasping and Piccolo’s name was on his lips as he came before collapsing backwards into his chair, slumping a little and chest heaving as he waited for his breathing and vision to go back to normal--he swore he saw actual stars for a moment.

And then he was sitting at his desk in sticky sweatpants and a general air of regret. That had been--well it had felt _great_ , but that wasn’t really the point, it had been a gross betrayal of trust. How would _he_ like it if Piccolo touched himself while thinking about Tien?

Oh. He’d like that, actually. Specifically he’d like to _watch_ that.

His stomach was sick and when he went to stand his legs only mostly worked and he stumbled to the bathroom to clean himself up before throwing his soiled pants and underwear in his laundry hamper. He was disgusted with himself for betraying Piccolo’s trust like that and he needed to escape from his room for a bit.

Well, apparently he had laundry that needed to be done now. Tien threw on clean boxers and jeans, dug through his wallet for change, and grabbed his hamper and detergent. When the laundry was clean, he’d start on himself.

~~~

“Hi.”

Tien’s head snapped up from his book. There, in the doorway of the laundry room, was Piccolo, holding a basket of purple clothes and looking shocked. Tien swallowed and willed himself not to stutter. “Hey.” Well at least one thing was going his way today.

Piccolo kicked the laundry room door shut behind him and set about throwing things in one of the washing machines. “Friday’s your laundry day too?”

Boy Piccolo was bad at small talk. Not that Tien was any better, but _still_. “No, just had a few things that had to be done.” The buzzer on Tien’s machine went off, and he set his book aside in favour of moving his laundry to a dryer.

There was a long silence, an uncomfortable one, and Tien’s heart was going to pound out of his chest. Tien couldn’t deal with this, not now, not after he’d just--

No, he wasn’t thinking about it. If he didn’t think about it, it didn’t happen.

“ _Dancing Under Stars_?”

Tien flinched and turned and sure enough, Piccolo was looking at the cover of his book. “Didn’t take you for a romance novels guy.”

“I’m not.” Tien shrugged and he knew he was blushing and it made him look like he was lying but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. “Yamcha--my roommate--and I are having a contest to see who can find the absolute worst erotica ever written.”

Piccolo’s mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile but for some reason wouldn’t. “Excluding _Fifty Shades_?”

“We both agreed not to go anywhere near that piece of trash” came the automatic response. In reality, they’d both read it, taking turns reading bits to each other in horrible imitations of various actors. Yamcha’s imitation of Samuel L. Jackson was particularly terrible. “So far neither of us has come up with anything worse than Chuck Tingle.”

Piccolo’s face twisted, brows drawn in confusion and mouth tilted in disgust. “I have no idea what that is and I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Trust me, you don’t.” Tien sauntered over and Piccolo handed his book back. “This one’s...alright. Kind of generic, but not brain-damage-inducingly awful.”

Piccolo shook his head. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Tien shrugged and hopped up to sit on the small table, opening _Dancing Under Stars_ to where he’d last left off. “Your loss.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s _your_ loss.”

Tien laughed, and Piccolo smiled, and the next silence was far more comfortable.

“I was thinking,” Piccolo suddenly blurted, “do you want to go out sometime?”

Tien blinked, then looked at Piccolo’s face. He was blushing, lips pressed together like he was trying to keep more words from coming out, arms folded, staring straight ahead unblinkingly. He didn’t say anything, just set his book aside and slowly slid off the table.

“If you don’t want to that’s fine,” Piccolo added hastily, still not looking at Tien. “I just thought--after last night--maybe we could get to know each other better? You seem like an interesting guy and--but if you don’t want to--”

He stopped talking when Tien kissed his cheek. “I’m in room 538. Pick me up at six.”

Piccolo’s eyes had snapped to him when he kissed him, and now they followed him as he left the laundry room, taking his book with him. “Right. Okay. Six. See you then.”

“Bye.” Tien gave Piccolo a little wave, then slipped out into the hallway.

As soon as he was out of sight, he leaned against the wall, clutching his heart while he tried to force some of the blood out of his face. He had a date with Piccolo. _He had a date with Piccolo._

Shit, maybe he _did_ belong in the Alien Boyfriend Club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *1960s Batman announcer voice* Where will they go on their date? What will they do? Will it be awkward (spoilers: probably)? Who is Yamcha’s alien boyfriend? Will there be more NSFW content (spoilers: YES)? Tune in tomorrow, or whenever I feel like posting the next part, same DBZ time, same DBZ channel!


	3. Properly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, our two tsudere idiots are going on their first (second?) date.
> 
> Wish them luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -////-
> 
> Also writing sex from Piccolo's point of view is...weird. Because alien anatomy. Oh god I have no idea what I'm doing please help me
> 
> Including a couple of bonus ships that are barely there so I'm not tagging them. (Also: Piccolo you do not get to talk about Gohan's inferiority complex like you weren't a big factor in why he has it ok)
> 
> !!!NSFW!!!

Nail was completely unsympathetic to Piccolo’s plight. “I don’t see why you’re getting so worked up over clothes. It’s just a _date_ ,” he said disdainfully, perched on Piccolo’s desk chair and watching him dig through his closet. “It’s not even your first date, really.”

“That didn’t count as a date,” Piccolo growled, tossing a few jumpsuits aside. “We met, and we talked, and then we…” He trailed off, embarrassed. “You know.”

“Look, you’re the ones who decided to ‘you know’ instead of talking.” Piccolo glared at him over his shoulder and he held up his hands in defense. “I’m just saying, it totally counts as a date. Hell, how do you think _my_ first date with Katatosho went?”

“I don’t want to know,” Piccolo declared loudly, snatching a shirt from the top of a pile. “What you two freaks get up to when you’re “studying” is your own business.”

“The point is it’s not like you’ve never met the guy. And from what you said he was pretty easily convinced to go out with you tonight. So it’s not like you’re trying to impress a blind date or the hot Saiyan from math class or whatever.”

Piccolo didn’t say anything for a moment, instead struggling to pull a t-shirt over the long sleeved shirt he was already wearing. “It’s not just that,” he finally said, pulling out two pairs of jeans for a sniff test. “I don’t know if he sees this as an actual relationship, or at least something that _could_ become an actual relationship, anyway. Or if he just thinks I’m an easy lay.”

“Dude.” Nail sounded mortified. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think you’re just some guy to get off with. Did you see how he was looking at you at breakfast? He looked like a teenager just discovering what love is. Plus I saw you two cuddling this morning and I haven’t seen you looking so peaceful since…well, ever, really. And besides that, most humans don’t think we can even _have_ sex. And the ones that do think we have those fleshy hose-looking penis things.” Piccolo shook his head, but wasn’t quite successful at not thinking about how good Tien’s had felt in his mouth. He swallowed and forced himself to listen to what Nail was saying–-at this point anything was better than _that_. “So he probably didn’t go into the relationship with the sole intention of getting laid. I think he’s good for you. Maybe if you’re really good, he’ll replace that stick up your ass with something else.”

“I hate you.” He refused to turn and show how purple his face was. “Get out of my room.”

Nail shrugged and sauntered towards the door, but stopped before he actually left. “Please tell me you’re not actually wearing that.”

His face was already hot, but now it was even worse. “First you tell me not to worry about what I wear, then you turn around and tell me not to wear what I want! Make up your mind!”

“You look like the poster child for bad 90′s Earth fashion! At least get rid of the Postboy shirt!”

Grumbling, Piccolo pulled off the t-shirt, leaving the purple undershirt. “There. Better?”

“Much.” Nail winked at him and started to leave. “Oh, by the way, if I’m not here when you get back, I’m at Katatosho’s. We’ve got a big project coming up.”

“I’ll bet you do,” Piccolo muttered, but Nail had already closed the door behind him.

~~~

In the end, Piccolo settled for a mix of Earth and Namek fashion–-jeans, purple sweater, his Namekian boots (the only shoes he could find comfortable–Earth clothes were fine, but what the hell was up with human feet) and a puffy collar like the one Nail wore most of the time. Generally he had his cape with his collar, but he wasn’t sure if that would be too “formal” for a date like this.

He was a few minutes early to pick Tien up, but it was better than late, and he managed to get the room number right first try. The young man who answered the door wasn’t Tien, but Piccolo was pretty sure he’d seen him around campus before. He ushered Piccolo into the apartment, introduced himself as Yamcha, and told him Tien was “being a drama llama and taking too long to get his face on,” to Tien’s indignant shouting from what Piccolo assumed was Tien’s bedroom.

The whole encounter with Yamcha was incredibly awkward, because unlike Tien he was chatty and kind of nosy. “So you guys have any plans for your date?” he asked. “There’s a great little park not far from here if you just wanted to talk,” he continued without letting Piccolo answer. (Not that Piccolo had an answer. He hadn’t thought this through very well.) “Or there’s a cafe restaurant thing about a block and a half away. You’d better do this thing right, man, Tien’s been stressing out about it all afternoon.”

“I have not!” Tien opened the door to his room and strode out, frowning at Yamcha. Piccolo’s eyes dragged up and down his figure–-clad in a green Mandarin jacket and white pants and absolutely _stunning_ -–before snapping back up to his face. Tien’s eyes softened when they met Piccolo’s and he felt his heart doing weird things in his chest. He stood up, feeling like he was supposed to for some reason.

“You _absolutely_ have.” Yamcha stood too, stretched, and wandered toward the other bedroom. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“You’re the worst influence I’ve ever met,” Tien said.

Yamcha winked over his shoulder at them. “Exactly. So go have fun. Oh, and I might have people over when you get back, so if you’re planning any after-date activities you might want to go somewhere else.”

Piccolo’s face went royal purple in record time. “Will you go away?!” Tien snapped. His blush turned his face red (it didn’t matter that he’d been raised among humans from an early age, the fact that they blushed red was still bewildering to him) from his forehead down his neck, under his collar, and up to the tips of his ears. Piccolo turned away, staring pointedly at the ground, because he knew _exactly_ how far down that blush went.

“You’re the ones wasting valuable dating time” was Yamcha’s only response before shutting the door behind him.

Tien sighed and ran a hand down his face. Piccolo took a moment to regain his composure, but was only mostly successful before Tien grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the apartment. “Come on,” he said, “the sooner we get out of here the sooner we don’t have to deal with Yamcha.”

~~~

Tien rested his chin on his hand, looking at Piccolo steadily over his coffee. “Teaching, huh? Looking for elementary, secondary, private tutoring?”

“Elementary, mostly.” Piccolo shifted. The cafe was nice, and only a ten minute walk from campus, but the seats were tiny and the barista had sneered at him when he ordered an ice water and nothing else. “But not kindergarten. I like kids, but only when they’re older than five.”

“What about the kid you babysit?” Tien asked. Piccolo was a little impressed he remembered his offhand comment from the night before. “How old is he?”

“Gohan’s eleven. I’ve been babysitting him since he was around four–-he didn’t start becoming tolerable until he was five. Cried all the time, wouldn’t listen to a damn thing I said.” He scowled and shook his head. “He’s a lot better now, still pretty softspoken and has an inferiority complex like you wouldn’t _believe_ , especially for such a young kid, but there’s a lot of expectations there. But he’s smart. And he’s got a good support network at home. And he’s the reason I want to teach kids in the first place; I want to help kids like him become the person they can be.”

Tien was looking at him fondly and he blushed, looking away and clearing his throat. “What about you?” Piccolo asked, trying to take some of the heat off of himself. “What’re you here for?”

“Massage therapy. I want to get into sports massage, but that’s an extra year or two of school and I’m not sure I can afford it.”

Piccolo did not look at Tien’s hands–-large, solid hands with thick fingers and well-trimmed nails–-and think about the kinds of massages he could give Piccolo with them. Or at least he tried not to. Instead he said “Oh” and took another sip of water and tried to think of something else to say. This was what he’d been afraid of–-not having anything to say to each other after all, not having any sort of connection outside the bedroom. “And how’s that going?” he finally asked after too long a silence.

“Pretty well,” Tien said, picking it right back up like they hadn’t just not looked at each other for what felt like ten minutes (but which was only about thirty seconds when Piccolo looked at the clock). “I’m keeping caught up with the work, I have no shortage of people willing for me to practise on them-–Yamcha and my friend Launch especially. Yamcha and his boyfriend are always into some sport or other–-right now it’s soccer–-so he’s sore all the time. Launch is a nursing student so she’s on her feet all day and she always used to demand foot massages.” He looked very proud of himself. “Got pretty good at those.”

Piccolo nodded. “Good to stay in practise.”

“Absolutely. Hey, did you want to get out of here?” When Piccolo blinked in confusion at him, Tien nodded at something over Piccolo’s shoulder. “There’s a park over there and it’s still pretty light out–-we could take a walk. If you want to, that is,” he added hastily. “I just always prefer doing something rather than sitting around.”

“Sounds good to me.” Piccolo stood, waiting for Tien to do so as well before heading for the door. He always felt too cramped indoors-–going outside was a good choice.

~~~

The conversation flowed better when they were walking and talking as opposed to just sitting. Tien talked about his brother, Chiaotzu, and his martial arts training, and he told a few stories about stupid shit Yamcha and his friends had pulled. (”One time Goku and Yamcha walked in on Krillin and Lazuli making out, so they ended up turning it into a game of “who can come up with the worst innuendo to make them super uncomfortable.” Then Lazuli punched them and it was great.”) Piccolo told him about Gohan, and his own martial arts training (which, as it turned out, was both very similar to Tien’s and very different, and they decided that some other time they should meet up to spar and compare notes), and ended up on a long-winded rant about the current state of the education system and its failings.

(Piccolo had never talked for such a long time in his life. He was generally a quiet person, preferring to let others hold the conversation and tune out what he could. He didn’t like talking, and he knew that was going to cause problems given his career choice, but for as much as he could get away with he avoided talking. Tien made it easy, though; he was a great listener and he actually seemed to care about and side with Piccolo on a lot of what he said. It was…nice. And weird. He kept waiting for a catch, something that indicated Tien didn’t really care and was waiting for an excuse to leave, but it never came.)

Their silences were fine, too. After a long (long, long, long, _long_ ) time they ran out of things to say and just walked in silence for a while. Tien held his hand and he felt something in his chest glowing. It was…nice. And weird.

But all good things must come to an end, so eventually they turned back towards campus, dodging groups of students either drunk, on their way to get drunk, or both. It was getting dark out by that point, and Piccolo squeezed Tien’s hand just a little tighter every time someone came near them, but nobody bothered them. (Except for a very persistent group of twenty-something human women, who kept asking Tien for his phone number. Eventually Piccolo snapped something at them and dragged Tien off, embarrassed, because there was a bubbling pit of jealousy in his stomach and he didn’t like it. Tien didn’t seem to mind-–in fact, he was pretty grateful, if the way he held Piccolo’s hand a little harder after that was any indication.)

“You don’t have to walk me back to my room or anything,” Tien said in the elevator. “I know where it is.”

Piccolo shrugged. “I’m going to anyway. That’s a date thing, right? Walking your date home?”

“Well, yeah,” Tien conceded, “but you don’t _have_ to.”

“Well I’m _going_ to.” He decided not to bring up the fact that he _did_ sort of have to-–his room was just down the hall from Tien’s and he had to pass 538 to get to it. It didn’t sound as good, even if he was sure Tien knew it just as well as he did.

All too soon they were in front of room 538 and Tien was giving him a slow, sweet goodnight kiss and he could do this forever. A thumb ran across his cheek and he caught the hand to hold it against his face, his other hand cradling the back of Tien’s head. When they broke apart, Tien leaned his forehead against Piccolo’s, and although Piccolo jumped a little at the way his antennae brushed against Tien unexpectedly, he easily relaxed when Tien bumped their noses together.

“Thanks for tonight,” Tien said.

Piccolo swallowed and ran through thirteen things to say in response before coming up with “Anytime.”

Grinning at him a little crookedly, Tien untangled himself from Piccolo and opened the door to his apartment–-

And they were met with a loud, enthusiastic “Oh, _Raditz_ ” before Tien slammed the door shut again, throwing himself away from it and into Piccolo.

Blinking, stunned, Piccolo looked down at the human whose back was currently plastered against his chest. “What was _that_?” he asked.

“I have seen things that were not meant to be seen,” Tien mumbled, still staring at the door unblinkingly. “Oh god when he said he was having people over I didn’t think he meant _just his boyfriend_. I’m going to murder them both and then scrub the entire apartment with bleach.”

Piccolo gingerly laid his hands on Tien’s shoulders. “Are…are you okay?”

Tien took a deep breath in, then slowly blew it out through his nose. “I’ll live. But, uh. There’s no way I can go in there after…” He shuddered. “After _that_.” He twisted to look up at Piccolo. “I hate to ask, but can I stay over at your place again tonight? I’ll sleep on the floor if–-”

“Yes,” was the immediate response. “Absolutely. And I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.” He blushed a little at how enthusiastic he was about having Tien over again, and his grip on Tien’s shoulders tightened. Would there be a repeat of last night? Because while it had been great, he didn’t want Tien to think that was all there was to this–-to _them_ –-

No. He didn’t think that, he couldn’t think that, not after a date where all they did was talk and listen and enjoy each others’ company.

“Thanks,” Tien sighed, disentangling himself again and turning to face Piccolo. “Shall we then?”

~~~

“At least Nail’s not doing the same thing,” Piccolo muttered, kicking his boots into their designated corner. Tien toed his shoes off and arranged them neatly next to the wall. “If he was I probably would’ve straight-up killed him.” Although, come to think of it, Nail _had_ mentioned he might be going over to Katatosho’s.

So once again he was alone in the apartment with a man he was interested in. Except this time, he knew that Tien was interested in him, too. He wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse.

“Water?” he offered, because it was better than standing around looking at each other, and he was incredibly thirsty all of a sudden.

“No thanks.” Tien shook his head and instead stood in the middle of the kitchen, back straight, hands clasped behind him. Piccolo grabbed the biggest glass he owned (a tall purple one covered in stars that had been a birthday present from Gohan) and started filling it. _Fuck_ why was he so thirsty? “Sorry about this,” Tien apologised. “I didn’t expect Yamcha to be…” He trailed off, face red. “You know. If you change your mind I can go find a motel room somewhere, or my friend Krillin lives a few floors up, I can–-”

Piccolo waved him off. “Don’t worry about it.” He drained half the glass in one go. That helped some, anyway. “And like I said, I won’t make you sleep on the floor, either. I-–” He cut himself off, because he’d been about to say “I liked sleeping with you” and that would just-–

Fuck he was still thirsty. He finished his glass and refilled it.

“Is everything okay?” Tien asked. His brows were drawn in concern, mouth tilted down in confusion. “You seem tense.”

He shrugged and tried sipping his water, hoping that would help more than chugging it had. “I’m always tense.”

“Want a massage?”

Piccolo choked and stood coughing for a good three and a half minutes, looking completely undignified he was sure. Tien patted his back a little awkwardly, apologising profusely. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-–are you–-I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t-–” (cough cough cough) “-–don’t worry about it.” When he could breathe properly again, he set his glass aside. It was still only half empty, but that was fine, he’d probably had enough for now anyway. Great Porunga, Tien was going to kill him by accident.

“You sure?”

“I’m fine.” Piccolo straightened. “In answer to your question, why?”

To his surprise, Tien flushed and looked away. “You’re tense. I figured a massage would help.” He took a deep breath, as though preparing to say something difficult, and Piccolo held back his knee-jerk response of “you don’t have to.” He understood how hard it could be sometimes to–- “And I like touching you,” Tien mumbled, so quickly that Piccolo only made out what he was saying because of his superior hearing. His own face went blotchy lavender, and to his great embarrassment he felt his throat getting tender, a sure sign of attraction and arousal if ever there was one.

Oh. That was why he was so thirsty. Namekian arousal was all throat, mouth, and chest related–-a dry throat meant attraction, a sore one meant arousal, a wet one meant–-well, popular slang for sex among Namekians was “getting your throat wet” for a reason. He’d been half-aroused since they got to the damn apartment.

Tien really _was_ going to kill him by accident.

“Sorry, that was weird.” Tien started to back away, but Piccolo grabbed his shoulder before he got more than a step. He looked up at Piccolo, then back at the wall. “I just-–it’s true, I liked touching you last night and-–I wanted to again. Not necessarily sexually,” he added, and Piccolo wasn’t sure whether he was reassuring Piccolo or himself. “Just…maybe I was looking for an excuse, just a little.” He took a deep breath, then let it go. “I can at least admit that much.”

“Okay.”

The word was out of Piccolo’s mouth before he really thought about it, but he wasn’t going to take it back. Tien liked touching him? Great. He wasn’t going to pretend he hadn’t thought about Tien’s hands more than once since the night before, especially since he mentioned he was a budding masseuse. So he nodded once, decisively, at Tien’s flustered expression, and said it again. “Okay. Massage. Let’s do it. Do I have to do anything?”

Tien’s tongue darted out to briefly wet his lips and Piccolo’s eyes did not follow its movement. “T-take off your shirt first, I guess.”

Piccolo smirked. “Sure you don’t want to help with that?” His smirk widened into a full-on grin when Tien’s breath caught and his hands twitched forward. He pulled his collar off (it was always harder to deal with secondhand) and gestured to himself. “Go ahead.”

It definitely didn’t take much convincing to get Tien’s hands under his shirt and sliding up his sides, over his chest, up his arms, catching on the pink muscles under the sleeves, and all too soon Piccolo’s shirt was off and Tien was a few feet away again, refusing to meet his eyes and breathing shallowly. Piccolo swallowed, throat just a little achier now. “So now what?”

Tien’s eyes flicked to Piccolo’s bedroom door, but he took a deep breath and said “We can do this sitting or lying down. It’s up to you.”

Piccolo weighed his options. On the one hand, taking the chair would probably be less awkward for everyone involved. But on the other hand, his throat was getting pretty sore.

He led the way into the bedroom confidently and made himself comfortable on his stomach. “Like this?”

Tien was clearly trying to act all business, but his hands were shaking as he repositioned Piccolo’s arms. “There.” Piccolo turned to look up at him and watched as he took a deep, steadying breath. When Tien’s hands returned and laid themselves on Piccolo’s back, they were no longer shaking. “Just relax,” he murmured. “It might hurt a little at first, especially if you’re not used to it, but I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Piccolo swallowed again and debated pointing out the innuendo, but then Tien’s thumbs were pushing into his shoulder blades and he lost control over his speech. There was definitely some pain there, but it gradually faded as Tien worked the stiffness out of his upper back. His eyes slid closed and he let himself drift in contentment. It was _marvelous_. He hardly ever let himself relax like this, and never with someone else so close to him, touching him even. And yet here he was with his whole body relaxed as Tien’s hands moved down his back to his tailbone. There was silence in the room aside from the occasional grunt from Piccolo. He focused on the sound of Tien’s breathing and the warmth spreading through him from Tien’s hands and sighed.

_Damn, Tien…_

Tien’s hands abruptly pulled away and there was a crashing noise. Piccolo scrambled upright to find Tien had fallen into Piccolo’s closet. He didn’t move, instead staring wide-eyed up at Piccolo with a mix of confusion, panic, and terror. It didn’t take much for Piccolo to figure out what had happened. “That wasn’t out loud, was it,” he sighed, brushing his antennae with one hand.

Tien shook his head. “Sorry, I–-I forgot you could do that.”

Piccolo shrugged. “Namekians don’t exactly broadcast that we’re psychic. Humans already don’t generally like or trust us–-why give them another excuse?”

He stood and dusted himself off. “It’s fine. I just-–I didn’t expect it. Chiaotzu–-my brother–-he’s psychic too, and it’s a lot rarer in humans than Namekians, so I’m used to it, I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

Piccolo shifted so he was sitting on the edge of the bed and held his hands out to Tien. “Come here.” Cautiously, Tien shuffled forward and took Piccolo’s hands. Piccolo pulled him forward and he stumbled into his lap with a yelp. His hands dropped Piccolo’s and grabbed his shoulders for stability instead. Piccolo’s hands drifted to Tien’s hips and he grinned up at him. _Hi there._

To his credit, Tien only flinched instead of throwing himself backwards. _Hi,_ came the response, definitely in Tien’s voice, definitely in Piccolo’s head. Piccolo grinned and Tien smiled back. _This is kind of weird. I never thought I’d have a conversation like this with anyone but Chiaotzu._

_Can we agree not to talk about your brother for a while?_ he asked, leaning forward. Tien met him halfway and they were quite happy to forget words for a while.

Because Piccolo denied a lot of things about himself–-his delinquent past, his need to protect those weaker than him, his heritage. But at this point he wasn’t denying that he was attracted to Tien in more ways than one, and he was pretty sure Tien felt the same way about him, and he tried his best to pour all of that into kissing Tien.

_Tell me what you want,_ Tien said without breaking the kiss. _Anything you want me to do and I’ll do it._

Piccolo worked Tien’s mouth open and pulled at his pants. _These are in the way and need to be gone right now. Immediately._ When Tien started to move his mouth away, he grabbed his head and held him still. _Without breaking the kiss._

Tien swallowed against him and he groaned. It was a little awkward getting them both naked without moving away from each other, but it happened, and in the end Tien was under Piccolo on the bed, making the most delicious little moaning noises into his mouth while Piccolo ground his hips down against his. It didn’t really do anything for Piccolo, but Tien’s hips jerked up and his breathing hitched, and that was almost enough for him.

Almost.

_Now I need you to concentrate for this,_ he said. Tien sent back a bunch of gibberish and thrust his hips upwards. “Tien,” he said, pulling away to speak out loud, “I need you to concentrate.”

Tien threw an arm over his face, chest heaving. He swallowed and gasped and slowly brought himself back under control. “Okay,” he panted, “what do you need me to do?”

Piccolo leaned down so he was right next to Tien’s ear and growled “I need you to kiss me as hard as you can and massage my neck at the same time.”

He heard Tien swallow and felt his heart stutter under his hand. “I can do that.” And then his tongue was massaging the inside of Piccolo’s mouth while his hands did the same to his neck. He pressed gently on the back of Piccolo’s neck, glided his fingers over where his neck met his shoulder, ran a thumb over the front of his throat. The kiss itself was sloppy and messy and Piccolo was the one sending gibberish through their connection now as their teeth clashed and Tien’s tongue _stroked_ across his and it wasn’t pretty by any standard and Piccolo wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then Tien said his name in his head in the most erotic way he’d ever heard it and he lost it, a rush of wetness bursting out of him and mixing with his saliva and Tien’s, and he started to pull away and apologise because it was messy and gross. But Tien’s hands grabbed him and held him and wouldn’t let him go and he swallowed, then swallowed again, and only then did he let go, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he said aloud, “I may have fantasized about getting you off just with kissing.”

Piccolo’s eyes widened. That was _not_ the reaction he was expecting. He swallowed (he was still a little sore and that statement wasn’t helping) and looked down at Tien’s hands. “Show me.”

Tien’s blush went all the way to his abdomen and Piccolo sat up to trace it, wiggling across Tien’s lap to sit on his thighs and reveling in the way Tien squirmed when he did. _Show me,_ he demanded again, internally this time. _Show me what you do when you think about me._

Tien looked away, and for a moment Piccolo thought he’d crossed a line, but then Tien’s hands moved. One went to push himself up so he was half sitting, the other sliding down his abs down to his groin to–-

Piccolo was the one who gasped in relief when Tien wrapped a hand around his dick. He watched Tien stroke himself, gently at first, slowly picking up the pace, hips trying to move as well but unable to with Piccolo sitting on him, a high-pitched whine escaping his throat as his head fell to the side and his mouth dropped open. It took Piccolo a moment to realize he was watching Piccolo just as much as Piccolo was watching him, eyes half-closed, keeping steady eye contact as he worked himself over, and then he started–-

_Piccolo,_ was the first one, and after that a line of unintelligible white noise, then _I can’t stop, I can’t stop thinking about you, you’re always on my mind and I want to_ -–more gibberish–- _I want to touch you and kiss you and make you feel good, I want to know you better than you know yourself, oh yes like that do that again Piccolo please_

And Piccolo wasn’t sure when his hand had joined in the fun down below but he wasn’t going to complain because Tien was crying out as he came and he looked utterly wrecked when he collapsed backwards onto the bed. Piccolo wiped his hand on his thigh and moved up beside him, pressing a kiss to Tien’s forehead. Tien’s hand, still wet and sticky, pulled Piccolo down to tangle them together, nestling as close as he could to him without them physically fusing into the same being.

“I know we said last night was going to be a one time thing,” Tien said sleepily when he got his breath back. Piccolo blinked; had they said that? It sounded like something he’d say, or at least agree to. “But I’m glad it wasn’t.” He placed a few butterfly kisses along the side of Piccolo’s neck and Piccolo hummed and wrapped his arms around Tien just a little tighter.

Maybe Nail had been right about something after all. Maybe Tien was good for him.


End file.
